


Could This Day Get Any Worse?

by Jem (allonsymous)



Category: Bella and the Boys (2004), Takin' Over the Asylum
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Language, Romance, Teninch Fic, Tropes, bad day turned good, stuck in an elevator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-31
Updated: 2017-09-27
Packaged: 2018-12-09 04:32:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11661687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allonsymous/pseuds/Jem
Summary: Bella's day started out pretty well, but it went downhill in a hurry right after lunch.  Now she's lost a client, her clothes and hair are a mess, and worst of all, she's late for the most important interview of her life.  But the day isn't through with her yet.This is an AU featuring Campbell Bain (David Tennant) from "Takin' Over the Asylum", and Bella (Billie Piper) from "Bella and the Boys".  Each of them are older now.  Bella is approaching 30, and Campbell is in his late 30s.





	1. Chapter 1

The day started off pretty well, actually. Bella had managed not to sleep through her alarm, signed off on a school permission slip while cooking breakfast and packing a lunch for Isabelle—simultaneously, and without burning the toast! Multitasking award!—made it to the bus stop on time, and didn't spill coffee down her blouse on the way to her first photo shoot of the day.

But then her lovely morning segued into one of the shittiest afternoons she'd experienced in quite some time.

It began with a sudden cloudburst on the corner of 172nd and Kingston, halfway between the Gracemore Cafe—where she'd just taken lunch—and Wilfordshire Chapel, where she was supposed to do a pre-wedding photo shoot. Of course she'd decided to walk the six blocks from Gracemore to Wilfordshire, and honestly, the weather had looked promising before. She found shelter inside a print shop, but not before her hair and blouse were totally soaked through. The shop owner graciously fetched a roll of paper towels from the back so that she could at least dry her face and squeeze some of the water out of her hair before phoning for a taxi, which took almost 45 minutes to get there due to a traffic accident. She ended up being absurdly late for the shoot, of course. The bride was furious, naturally, because now they would have to reschedule a photo shoot for after the wedding day, which was enormously inconvenient for the entire wedding party. She demanded a full refund and insisted on switching photographers. Her brother knew a guy, apparently.

It happens. You can't account for all the variables. But this was a huge loss. She was banking on this job to cover the cost of Isabelle's glasses, and now that was all gone out the window.

After the verbal thrashing of a lifetime, and still shaking from her own indignation, hurt pride, and disappointment, she walked out of the Wilfordshire gates under now clear skies and bright sunshine, and right into the massive spray of a too-fast car as it sped through a puddle, drenching the rest of her. And of course, she'd accidentally left her camera bag open, so she had to stop and take out all her things, shake off as much water and grit as she could, and use her scarf to soak up some of the wetness inside the bag. Concerned that her camera could be damaged, she took some time testing it out and carefully picking grit out of the delicate parts.

And wouldn't you know it, this made her late for the bus, so now she would have to wait another 40 minutes for the next one. Which was going to make her late for her last appointment—one she really couldn't afford to lose. She was being interviewed by a prospective new client—BBC Scotland—who wanted to hire her to do a photo shoot of all their celebrity DJ's for a new display in the lobby, plus additional photography for their websites. It was a huge long-term project, and would mean not only a steady income for the next six months, but an enormous opportunity to network, plus giving her that leg up she needed on her marketing portfolio. She had been doing family events and weddings for a few years now, but it just wasn't making her much money. Doing photo shoots for businesses promised to be far more lucrative, and she hoped this might get her and her daughter out of the shitty flat they were currently stuck in.

And now she was going to be late. Another huge opportunity was slipping through her fingers. _What the fuck, universe, it's not even a bloody Monday!_

She whipped out her phone to call a cab only to find the battery was dead.

_Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck!_

She was about to collapse right there on the sidewalk and burst into tears when, by some crazy coincidence, a taxi came cruising down the road. 

Its light was on.

“Oi! Stop!” she hollered desperately, waving her arms in the air and stepping one foot off the curb. The cab came to a stop, and with a huge sense of relief, she climbed into the back seat.

“Where to, miss?” the cabbie asked.

“BBC Scotland, quick as you can please.” She leaned back in her seat with an exhausted sigh as the cab rolled back into the flow of traffic, closing her eyes for a brief moment as she dared to feel a little hope. Maybe this day could still be salvaged.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes, shifting on the bench seat as she opened up her camera bag and pulled out the soiled iPad knock off, wiping off the screen with the driest part of her sleeve and turning on the selfie camera.

_Oh god._

She looked an absolute frightful mess. Her carefully curled blond hair was deflated, the limp waves stiff and crunchy from the dampened styling products she'd used. Her mascara was smeared down her cheeks, and there were speckles of dirt on her face from when the car had splashed her with muddy water, and there was an oily sheen on her forehead.

“Shit!” she whispered under her breath, dropping her tablet in her lap and digging through her purse for a miracle. Tampons, a bandaid, gum wrappers, a bit of kleenex, a half eaten goody bar... aha! Her knitting! Which she always worked on while riding the bus. She snatched the two double point bamboo knitting needles out of the half finished sock and stuck them in her mouth, then shook out her hair and worked it into what she hoped was a stylishly messy bun, using the needles to secure it in place. Examining herself with the camera again, she decided that she'd seen worse, which would have to be good enough. After another dig in her purse, she found a tube of subtle pink lippy and freshened up her mouth, then licked the tissue and dabbed at the mascara spots around her eyes until they were gone. She also dabbed away the muddy spots and blotted the sheen on her forehead and chin, then examined herself once more. Not runway material, but presentable. She shoved her tablet away and slipped off her coat, examining her clothes. She was still damp, but no longer soaked.

“Oi, could you crank up the heat a bit?” she said to the cabbie. “My clothes are wet and I haven't got time to change before my appointment.” _Thank god I wore black trousers today._

As the cab warmed up, she started to relax a little. Maybe things would be all right after all. Reaching for her tablet again, she opened up her portfolio and reviewed it, second guessing a choice or two and swapping them out for something that added maybe a bit more variety. She needed her portfolio to be perfect. There was no telling how many photographers were being reviewed, and she couldn't afford any mistakes. Especially with how... unkempt she appeared at the moment. Every photo had to wow, with absolutely no filler. She reviewed the quality, checking her angles and light sources and looking for problems.

She was so focused on her work that she didn't notice the cab slowing down, and only looked up when it came to a full stop. There it was. The huge BBC Scotland building. She swallowed against a dry throat, feeling her stomach do a little flip as nerves finally made themselves known, now that she was no longer distracted by everything that had taken place this afternoon. 

_Okay. This is it. You can do this._

She quickly paid the cabbie and shouldered her bags, in too much of a hurry to stow her tablet, instead just hugging it in her free arm as she walked briskly up to the main entrance of the building.

That's when it happened. As she came around a pillar that flanked the glass doors, a tall, lanky idiot with his eyes buried in a stack of papers ran right into her. She heard the sound of cracking glass before she hit the ground, and she realized the worst had happened.

He'd knocked the tablet right out of her hand.


	2. Chapter 2

Bella sat stunned as a whirlwind of papers floated down around her, staring at the shattered screen of her tablet lying on the brick pavers three feet away. This couldn't be happening. Her portfolio. Her resume. Everything was on that machine! How was she supposed to go into the interview empty handed?

It slowly seeped into her awareness that the lanky idiot was kneeling beside her, one hand on her shoulder, talking. _...Oh my god, are you okay? Ach, I'm so sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm such an idiot! I'm so, so sorry... are you hurt? Let me help you up._

She rounded on him fiercely. “Look what you've done! You bloody idiot! You broke it! Do you have any idea how royally fucked I am now?” Tears were already streaming down her face, before her chin even started to wobble. It was all too much.

The idiot flinched at her harsh tone, practically jumping away as he stood, eyes following where she was pointing. He seemed to notice the broken tablet for the first time, and his already pathetic face fell further. “Oh shit... oh god... I'm so sorry. Look, I'll pay for a new one, we can go right now—”

She was on her feet, picking up the tablet, trying to turn it on without success. “What good'll that do me!? My appointment is now! Right now! I'm gonna miss my interview! And I fucking needed this, you have no idea what you've done!”

The idiot shuffled his feet nervously, running his hands through his longish fringe, which promptly fell right back over the frames of his thick rimmed glasses. He opened his mouth, then paused thoughtfully. “What, you mean like, your resume is on there?”

Bella wiped her cheeks. “Not just my resume. My entire portfolio. I have nothing to present now.” Her voice had softened a little, but more from dejection than kindness.

“Was everything backed up on the SD card?”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze as more tears coursed down her cheeks.

“Oh! Well then, you can just use mine! My tablet, I mean. I've got one up in my studio. I mean I don't really use it, but everyone said I needed one. Played games for a bit, but they made me sorta bonkers.” He chuckled nervously, scratching the back of his neck. “Er, anyway, it's... worth a shot?” He tried to catch her eye with moderate, if brief, success.

Bella bit her lip uncertainly. What choice did she have? There was too much riding on this interview, and she was supposed to be shaking hands with the director of marketing in under 20 minutes. Finally she nodded. “Okay, fine.”

He grinned enthusiastically, the skin around his eyes crinkling a bit. “Great! Let's go.” He turned and started walking towards the doors.

“Wait, don't you want your papers?”

“Oh! Right!” He spun around with a nervous laugh. “Sorta forgot about them.” She helped him gather them up before following him inside.

As they made their way to the lift, the idiot started rambling again, and he walked so fast on his long legs, she could barely keep up without throwing in a little jog every five or ten seconds.

“I'm on the fifth floor. Used to be on the third floor, but they decided to renovate. Convert it into an on-sight gym and daycare center. Which is fine by me, means I get a brand new studio! Bigger, too, all new equipment, and fantastic views. You'll love it.”

“Great,” Bella said, without much enthusiasm. They entered the lift and the idiot punched number five with a sharp jab, then ran a hand through his hair again in a vain attempt to clear his field of vision. 

“So. What are you interviewing for?”

“It's a marketing contract. I'm a photographer. BBC Scotland is looking for someone to do promotional photography for the lobby, and also some upcoming marketing campaigns.”

“Oh, right, I heard about that, we're supposed to have our offices and studios ready by the first of the month. So that'll be you, then! Ach, that's brilliant!” He grinned broadly.

“Well, not really,” she replied, furrowing her brow in confusion. “I mean, yeah, I hope so. But the interview hasn't even happened yet. I'm not about to count my chickens yet.”

“Aye, but an interview is just a formality. You'll get it, I'm sure. All you have to do is make them want you. The thing that makes you special--makes you uniquely suited for the job—just make that a highlight, yeah? Don't let them stop thinking about it, and make them believe they can't live without it.”

Bella picked at her nails. “And what if I'm not special? What if I'm just your average photographer looking for a break?”

“Well then, do what I did.”

The elevator dinged and the doors slid open to reveal a brown wood paneled hallway with framed music posters lining the wall. He turned left and hurried down the hall, Bella following at a trot.

“What did you do?”

He stopped at a door and fished in the pocket of his jeans for his keys, glancing at Bella as he unlocked the door. “Just look 'em in the eye and tell them the truth that should be, instead of the truth that is.” He stepped through the door.

As she followed him in, she found herself in an impressively large office. A large mahogany desk was parked by the massive picture window which looked out over the city. There was a sitting area, too, with a leather couch and two leather wing chairs flanking a coffee table. There was even a coffee station and mini fridge. The rest of the walls were lined with gorgeous mahogany bookshelves, all empty at the moment. The whole place was an impossible mess. Boxes were stacked everywhere, papers were scattered about chaotically, several framed posters and paintings were leaned up against the furniture wherever they fit.

It occurred to her for the first time that the lanky idiot might actually be someone important. Her stomach did a somersault and she felt her cheeks flush at the mere thought. She'd really laid into him outside. _God, did I blow my chances already?_

“Sorry about the mess,” he was saying. “I just moved in last week. Haven't really unpacked yet. Never been good at that stuff, but I got a friend coming Monday to give me a hand. She lives for this sort of thing.”

Bella grimaced. “She... lives for cleaning up men's offices?”

The idiot laughed. “No, that's not what I mean. She's got OCD. Cleaning and organizing and sorting and all that, you could say it's her passion.” He stepped behind the desk and started rifling through drawers.

“Isn't that sort of taking advantage of the mentally ill?”

“What?” He glanced up with a frown. “No, it's not like that. We're old mates. And she likes it. Believe me, there's no point trying to intervene. She'd sneak out her room and clean when everyone was asleep! There's no stopping her. I finally just decided if cleaning makes her happy, then what's the harm in that?” He started looking under the scattered papers and random articles. Glancing up briefly, he caught her eye. “Besides. I need the help. I'm rubbish at it.”

“Maybe you just need more practice.”

He grinned. “Maybe.” He stood up straight and stepped away from his desk. “I'm a wee bit scatterbrained though. Very easily distracted.”

“I'd never have guessed.”

His awkward grin suggested he might be a little embarrassed, and Bella felt a twinge of regret. He was certainly going out of his way to help her. And he had been in a hurry himself. For the first time she considered he might be missing an important meeting of his own.

“Ehm, tablet's not in my desk. Might ha' left it in the studio, it's through here.” He skirted a stack of boxes towards a door on the far left wall. She followed him through and found herself in a soundproof room full of radio equipment, a big, soft spinny chair and desk with a computer and some sort of sound board or something, plus a microphone mounted above, aimed at the chair, a pair of thick padded headphones hooked over the mic stand. Opposite was a door and window looking into an empty, dark sound room.

The idiot was shuffling through the piles of magazines and records and poking his head in drawers and cupboards that lined the wall. “Got to be in here somewhere...”

Bella glanced at the equipment on the desk, her eyes landing on the headphones, which had a name painted across the band. _C. Bain._

_Oh god. C. Bain. Bain. Campbell Bain, the radio DJ. I fucking tore the shit out of Campbell Bain the radio DJ..._

She stared at the back of him. He was rambling again, something about his sound guy, Greg, and how sometimes he moved his stuff around, and how they'd had a scrap or two over it, especially when he misplaced one of his favorite records. The Beatles. Abbey Road. As he spoke, the tone and quality of his voice finally clicked in her head. She recognized it now.

“You're Campbell Bain,” she said, surprised at how even her voice sounded.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Aye, that's me.”


	3. Chapter 3

Bella's eyes widened. _You idiot. You fucking idiot. He's Campbell Bain, probably Scotland's most celebrity of celebrity DJ's. And you tore him a fucking pair of brand new eyeballs. Oh my god, how did I not recognize him?? Must be the glasses... and the sort of... god, what, three days worth of stubble? Is he growing a beard? Gross, I hope not. Why would he want to cover up that gorgeous face... er, I mean... wait..._ Bella felt herself turning a deep crimson and instinctively put her hands over her cheeks to hide it.

“Aha!” he cried triumphantly, oblivious to her discomfort—for which she was extremely grateful. “Under the snack box! I like to keep a stash on-hand in case I'm late or forget my lunch, which happens more often than you might think.” He had already grabbed Bella's tablet off the table where she'd set it down. “And trust me, you don't want to see me overstimulated and underfed.” He laughed as he switched out the SD cards and fired up his own tablet. After a few swipes, he had opened up her files and everything was there. “There we go! Good as new! Well, sort of.” He smiled regretfully. “Look, I'll come down with you and explain what happened, I'm sure they'll understand if it takes a few minutes to pull your files together.”

Bella suddenly realized she was staring, and also realized he'd been holding out the tablet longer than a few seconds. She shook her head as if to clear it and took the device out of his hands. “Um, sorry,” she said, trying to hide her embarrassment by tucking the device safely inside her camera bag before giving him her attention (with what she hoped was a relatively casual expression). “Thank you. And... listen. Sorry I yelled at you earlier. You just wouldn't believe the day I've had. It wasn't you, really, it was all the little things that had happened and... guess you were just, you know...” She cocked her head to the side. “The straw that broke the camel's back?”

He worked his jaw into a soft smile and shrugged dismissively, though the slight cringe around his eyes betrayed a certain degree of embarrassment. “Aye, we all have those days. And anyway, I should ha' been lookin' where I was going.”

She bit her lip a moment, then held out her hand. “I'm Bella, by the way.”

Campbell grinned then, the tension in his posture relaxing some. “Lovely! Nice to meet you, Bella!” He took her hand warmly. “Now. Let's get you to your interview.”

She grinned as a nervous chuckle escaped her throat.

They headed out of the booth, through the office—grabbing Campbell's stack of papers along the way at Bella's prompting—and out to the hall, flicking off lights and locking doors as they went.

“Who's interviewing you, then?” Campbell asked as they hurried down the hall.

“The director of marketing, Harold Krenshaw. I was told to come to his office on the seventh floor.”

“Oh right, Harry...” He paused, chewing the inside of his lip. “...Listen, he's a right old grouch, but a bit of a softy deep down. Don't tell him I said that though. But don't worry, I can smooth things over, no problem. Gave him and his wife a couple of hams last Christmas, they were over the moon.”

They stepped inside the lift as Bella giggled incredulously. “What? Over the moon about ham?”

“Oh aye!” he replied as he hit the 7 and leaned back against the hand rail, speaking animatedly. “They had a mishap with the turkey the night before they were supposed to have a huge Christmas dinner party, and all the shops were closed for the holiday. I had a couple o' hams that I wasn't going to be using, so I took 'em over.”

“What, you just have hams lying around waiting to be claimed by desperate executives?”

Just then, there was an unpleasant kerchunk, and the lights flickered and went out just as the lift ground to an abrupt halt, forcing them to grab the railing for support as they were knocked off balance. Half a moment later the emergency lights kicked in, dim and yellow.

“Uhh,” Campbell said, eyes roving the tiny room uncertainly.

“Oh god... oh no...” Bella cupped her palms around her cheeks. “No! The lift... shit!”

“Maybe it's just a glitch...” He jabbed the buttons a few times, but nothing happened. “Ach, no...” he sighed and punched the emergency button, glancing sheepishly at Bella. “Ehm... sorry...” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Bella covered her face with her hands. “Ugh, why am I even surprised! My whole afternoon has been like this! Oh god, I'm really fucked now.” She shook her head slowly, wiping her hands slowly down her face and letting them fall to her thighs with a plopping sound.

A slightly distorted feminine voice came over the intercom. “Hello, this is maintenance. We've received your emergency request, but it may take a while to reach you. Several lifts in the building have been affected. Is everyone okay in there?”

“Aye, we're fine,” Campbell replied. “How long do you think it'll take?”

“It's difficult to say just now. We'll contact you through the intercom system once we have more information. We just wanted to make sure there aren't any medical concerns.”

“No, no... just on a bit of a tight schedule.”

“How many people are on the lift including yourself?”

“Two.”

“And no chronic medical conditions that could pose a problem, such as diabetes, heart disease, anxiety...?”

Campbell hesitated just a moment. “No, nothing like that.”

“We understand that this is extremely inconvenient. Just sit tight, we are actively working to resolve this issue as swiftly as possible. If your situation changes and you have new concerns, use the emergency button to page us, and we'll do our best to walk you through any first aid requirements.”

“Any chance you could get a message to Harold Krenshaw for us, let him know his photographer candidate is stuck in the lift, and he may need to reschedule?”

“I'll see what I can do.”

The crackling of the intercom ceased.

Bella swiped a bit of stray hair out of her eyes, biting her lip against tears. “Thanks for that,” she managed thickly. Despite her efforts, a tear slid down her cheek. _Fuck. Crying in front of a celebrity. Twice. Check that off the bloody bucket list._


	4. Chapter 4

“It'll be okay,” he said, cringing slightly behind what was supposed to be a hopeful smile. “I'll smooth things over with Harry, I promise.”

Bella's eyes scanned the ceiling, a whispered oh god seeping through clenched teeth. “Thanks,” she said, not much hope in her voice.

An awkward silence began to develop. Campbell scratched at the back of his head and bit the inside of his lip thoughtfully. “So... how long have you been a photographer?”

“Oh, years now.” She let her bag slide from her shoulder and set it gently on the ground, reaching up to massage a knot at the base of her neck. “Family stuff mostly. Weddings... the odd pet session,” she added with a smirk. “Not as lucrative as business and marketing photography though. I'm trying to, you know, make a better life for me and my daughter.”

Campbell smiled broadly. “Oh, you have a daughter!”

“Yeah, Isabelle,” she said with a smile of her own. God, he was infectious. She already felt a little better just talking to him.

“I've a daughter, too. Charlotte.”

“Oh, lovely! How old?”

“Oh, she's wee. Just four. Lives in London with her mum.”

Bella grimaced. “London... bit far, that must be rough.”

Campbell cocked his head with a subdued shrug. “Yeah, a bit... I still get to see her a couple of times a month though. Her mum brings her the one time, then I go for the other.”

Bella nodded, biting her lip as her mind flashed on her own troubled start as a mother. Having to give up custody of Isabelle temporarily so that she could pull herself together; only being allowed scheduled, supervised visitations... it was the worst thing she'd ever gone through. Even worse than finding out about Lee.

She shook off the memory and attempted to steer the conversation away from such an uncomfortable topic. “Four's such a fun age. Isabelle is nine. She's really starting to show her opinionated side.” She cringed a little, then laughed. “Figures she'd be just like me.”

“Well it's good to know your own mind. She must be very clever.”

“Too clever.”

Their awkward chuckles faded into a charged silence, and Bella eagerly changed the subject.

“So, how about you? What made you want to become a radio DJ?”

He stuck out his lip thoughtfully. “Oh, lots of things, I suppose. Mostly I saw an opportunity and took it. I fell in love with it after diving in head first,” he laughed. “It was something to do, and I needed something desperately. Turned out I had a bit of a knack, so I ran with it.” He grimaced comically. “Maybe sometimes went a little too far to get what I wanted.” He squinted, tilting his head back. “I was a bit wild back then.”

She laughed. “Oh god, I know what you mean. You wouldn't believe some of the shit I got up to, I was a right terror.”

He eyed her sidelong, considering. “A terror, eh?”

She chuckled self consciously. “Well, I try to rein it in these days.”

“Not too much, I hope. Everyone needs a bit of a wild side, even if it's caged most of the time.”

The intercom crackled to life. “Hello, how is everyone doing in there?”

“We're about the same,” Campbell said. “Any word?”

“Well, turns out there was a mishap on the third floor where they're doing all the renovations. It's knocked out power to every lift in the south wing. Might be a bit of a wait I'm afraid. The electrician's on his way now.”

Bella groaned as a disappointed frown spread across Campbell's face. “Any idea how long?”

“Probably at least an hour.”

Bloody hell! An hour? At least? Bella pinched the bridge of her nose, fighting against a lump of frustration in her throat.

“Right...” Campbell replied after a brief, uncomfortable pause. “Look, could you do me a favor and give St. Jude's a ring? Let 'em know I'm gonna be late?”

“I'll see what I can do.”

The humming of the intercom disappeared and Bella slid to the floor with a sigh, resting her arms on her drawn up knees. “Sorry I've made you late.”

Campbell sat down, stretching his long legs in front of him and crossing his ankles. “Not your fault. I'm the one who caused this mess.”

“So what is it, sort of a big fund raiser or something?”

“No, hospital radio. Where I got my start, actually. I still do a show there once a week.”

“Oh wow, that's great!”

“Aye, the DJ there, he taught me all about radio. Helped me a lot. I wouldn't be where I am today without his help. It was devastating, you know, after I landed a job here, the hospital radio lost their funding, so it shut down for a while. But we did a lot of fund raisers and built it back up again. I'm not really one to give up when I want something, haha! They actually use it as part of their therapy now. I go in once a week to help. Eddie, my old mentor, he does most of it. When the doctors think a patient could benefit from the experience, they send them to Eddie and he teaches them how to do it. It's great for building confidence and a sense of responsibility, you know. A purpose. Something more to look forward to than just daytime dramas and what's on the menu for dessert.”

Campbell's chuckle faded, and his expression changed to something more guarded. “I don't know. Maybe it doesn't matter much to most people, but mental health is important. It means everything to those who are suffering,” he said. She detected a slight hint of wariness, maybe even defensiveness, in his voice, and suddenly realized she was wearing a frown of confusion, which he was perhaps misreading as something else entirely.

“Oh! Okay, sorry. I was just confused, that's all. You said hospital, and I just automatically thought, you know... broken arms and babies and stuff.” Her face flushed hot with embarrassment. _Did he think she was being judgmental?_ “I hope you don't think... I just didn't know what you meant, that's all.” She tried to smile through her discomfort. “St. Jude's is a mental hospital.”

He seemed to relax a little. “Yeah... yeah, I just sort of assumed...” A tiny, sheepish smile creased the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I'm not from around here. I mean obviously, my accent...”

“God, I'm sorry. I didn't even think. Of course.” He scratched the back of his neck self consciously. “I get a bit defensive about it, apparently.”

She laughed awkwardly. “It's okay. Just a misunderstanding. I think it's wonderful. A very worthy cause.”

“Well, it means a lot to me, personally.”

There was a brief pause.

“You were a patient there,” she said softly.

“Aye, for a bit, when I was a teenager.”

“...So... did it help?” she asked hesitantly.

He smirked. “Ehm... I don't know. What do you think?” The question was sincere.

“You seem all right to me,” she said with a chuckle.

“Good!” He laughed.

“What were you in for? I mean, if you don't mind me asking...”

He shook his head. “No, I like it.” He smiled. “Most people think it's not okay to ask questions.”

“Yeah... yeah, I know what you mean.”

He silently studied her face a few moments. “You've never had it easy have you?” It was a statement more than it was a question. She shook her head wordlessly. He swallowed, nodding slightly as he glanced down at his hands. “I'm pretty familiar with the look on your face.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Manic depression. Well, they call it bipolar disorder now.”

She nodded. “I see.”

“Yeah, back in high school, I went through a really bad spell of mania. Parents almost had me sectioned.”

“God...”

He glanced up, smiling slightly. She felt a pang as she read a wealth of sadness in his eyes. Suddenly he grinned. “But! I've been good! Yeah... feeling better these days.” His gaze wandered. “For now,” he added, with an awkward chuckle.

Bella smiled, and before she really knew what she was doing, she found herself crawling over to the other side of the lift and sitting next to him. “Well, I hope it stays that way for a good long while, Campbell. Can I call you Campbell?”

He grinned. “Oh, aye. I insist!”

She smiled softly. “It's only fair I tell you about myself then,” she said nervously, “I was in a home once. Not a mental hospital, but a home for kids. Troubled kids. Most of us didn't really have parents, or if we did, they weren't up for it. God, we got into so much trouble,” she chuckled, then sighed. “It was sort of a toss-up which of us came out the other side with our wits intact.”

He studied her face. “Well, in the words of a wise woman I once knew for about...” he glanced at his watch, “thirty-two minutes, 'You seem all right to me.'”

They both laughed.

“Oh my god, I never tell anyone that,” she said, wiping her forehead with a shaky palm. “Sort of my little secret.” Her face looked suddenly alarmed. “Oh shit, you can keep a secret, right?”

He laughed again. “Aye! Kept a lot of 'em in my day.”

God, his laugh was infectious. She couldn't keep that stupid grin off her face every time she heard it.

“Sorry I made you miss your show.”

He shrugged. “Sorry I made you miss your interview.”

“S'alright,” she said, the smile spreading across her face again. “Now I can cross getting stuck in a lift off my bucket list.”

“Ha! There's the silver lining! It'll be one of those stories we can tell our grandchildren.”

Bella's breath caught in her throat as she felt her cheeks bloom red. Campbell let out a strained cough. “Ehm, that is, what I mean is our respective grandchildren.”

“Right, 'course, I assume our respective daughters will probably have children someday.”

“Yes, exactly.” Campbell ran a shaky hand through his hair, avoiding her gaze as he cleared his throat. “Right. That won't be for a while though.”

“God, I hope not,” Bella laughed, relaxing a little. “I'll probably be a pretty young grandma as it is!”

“Yeah?”

“Well, I have a nine year old, and I'm only twenty-nine myself.”

“Ah! I see,” he chuckled, and she thought she detected a note of surprise in his voice.

Bella wrinkled her nose. “Though I probably look like I'm halfway through my thirties today. I'm a frightful mess. You wouldn't believe the day I've had. Well...” she smiled slightly, “it started out fine. Good, actually. Things were going pretty well, and I was really excited about my interview today...” Her mouth pinched in a suppressed frown. “Well, anyway, one soak in a cloudburst, one lost client, and one mud puddle shower later, here I am, stuck in a lift with you. You should have seen me in the cab on the way over.” She laughed, surprised to find herself rather relaxed about the whole thing, despite it being so recent. “I was such a sight.”

Campbell grimaced. “Well, that is a bad day, isn't it. Still, I'd never have guessed you were, as you put it, 'a sight'. Nope. I won't believe it. Impossible.” He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Bella felt a flock of butterflies float pleasantly through her stomach, and she shivered slightly, feeling her cheeks flush. _Oh. I haven't felt that in a while._ She looked down at her lap self-consciously and laughed. “I did! I had mud all over my face, and my hair was everywhere, and I was soaking wet. Well, I'm still pretty damp, actually. I was lucky I had a few tricks in my bag, otherwise I'd really have been in trouble.” She pulled the knitting needles out of her hair and presented them, feeling her half damp, crunchy mess of locks slip down. “My knitting most especially.”

His eyes widened and he grinned. “Ach, that is a good trick! Didn't know you could do that with knitting needles!”

She wrinkled her nose, an expression of combined pride and bashfulness. “Well, we women have quite a few up our sleeves.”

“Knitting needles?”

“No!” she laughed. “Tricks, you plum!”

He laughed. “I know, I'm kidding.” She started to twist her hair back into a bun. “Wait, no, don't it looks nice. Er... I mean, do what you want, of course.”

“Really?” she said skeptically as more butterflies floated through her stomach.

“Yeah,” he said with a smile.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Passing the time.

“All right, fine, but only because my neck's cold.” She grinned sheepishly.

Campbell looked concerned. “You're cold?”

“Well, I am in wet clothes.” She shrugged. “But that's okay. It does feel nice having my neck covered.”

“I'd loan you my jacket if I had one.”

“I've no doubt you would,” she said with a chuckle.

“I could tape all my papers together and make a paper blanket!”

Bella burst out laughing.

“Ach, no tape though...” he lamented.

“I appreciate the sentiment,” she giggled.

“Well, if we get really desperate, I might use them to start a fire.”

“That would certainly be desperate.”

“If only I'd pursued origami further, there's probably a way to fold a blanket.”

“Origami, eh?” she said with a chuckle.

“Aye, did a bit of origami while I was in St. Jude's. Sorta fun, but I didn't have the patience to learn more than a couple of patterns.” His eyes twinkled. “Fancy a boat?”

Bella laughed. “Sure, let's see it.”

Campbell grimaced. “Right... if I can remember how to make them. Been a while. Watch as the paper just bursts into flames halfway through.”

“Now that I'd like to see,” she giggled.

He creased one of the pages into a square and carefully tore the excess paper away before setting to work. Despite his self deprecation, he seemed confident in his folding. Still, the paper looked nothing like a boat. She chewed her lip in fascination as the paper folded smaller and smaller, when suddenly he pulled both at two corners and the whole thing seemed to fall apart.

“Oh no!” she squeaked.

“No, no, it's okay. It's supposed to do that. This is one's sorta got a trick to it.” He winked as he continued folding up the paper, which still looked nothing like a boat. After a few more folds, he held it up. “All right, ready for the magic?” He grinned.

“Oh, you're a wizard now?”

“Ehm... well, just this once.” He grinned again, eyes crinkling in the dim light. “Here we go.” He pinched the origami carefully on either side and gently pulled, causing the whole thing to bloom into the most perfect boat she'd ever seen.

She gasped in delight. “How'd you do that?”

“It's a very closely guarded secret. Only those who buy origami books are entrusted with such information.”

She laughed. “Right, that or google?”

“Yep, google, although that's sort of a dark art.”

She giggled again. “Seriously though.”

“It's called the ship of 1,000 cranes. It's pretty flashy, but not that hard, really. Just a lot of steps.”

“Show me how.”

“Aye, okay.”

He made them each their own square of paper, and he walked her through the steps, showing her the different techniques to get the folds right. At last, she took the two ends and sprung the folded paper into the magical boat.

“Yay, I did it!” she giggled triumphantly.

“Aye, you did, very good!”

“Well, thanks for that little trick, my daughter's gonna love it.”

He laughed. “Oh, it's a favorite with the wee'uns.”

“Wish I had something clever to share.”

“You sure you don't?” he said, nodding towards her camera bag.

She raised an eyebrow. “My photography? Well...” she looked away sheepishly. “It's not that interesting. Anyone can take a photo. Besides, it's mostly weddings and stuff.” She shrugged dismissively.

Before she realized it, Campbell took out his phone and snapped a picture of her. “There.” He handed her the phone. “That is the extent of my abilities.”

She chuckled self consciously as she looked at the image on the screen. Without realizing it at first, she found herself going through a mental checklist of all the things she would have done differently to improve the the dark, muddy orange picture, which was rather unflattering to be honest, and wow, did she really look that terrible? Oh my god...

She tapped a few icons on the screen and changed some of the settings, then handed the phone back to him. “Here, try now.”

He held up the phone and snapped another photo, examining the results. “Wow, that looks a million times better. What did you do?”

“I just adjusted the ISO and shutter speed on your camera.”

He smiled. “Great! ...I have no idea what that means,” he added with a chuckle.

She laughed. “The ISO adjusts how sensitive the camera is to light. The shutter speed has to do with,” she paused, considering how to break it down. “Well, basically how long she shutter is open. Increasing the ISO and slowing down the shutter speed helps with low light. It can make the camera more sensitive to motion, but you've got an image stabilizer on your app, so I turned that on.”

“Wow!” he said with a grin. “I didn't even know I had settings on this thing.”

“Most phones have some options these days.”

He tucked the phone into his back pocket. “Well, now I have a lovely photo to remember you by,” he said with a crinkly smile.

“Oh god,” she groaned with an embarrassed chuckle. “Fine,” she said, licking her lips. “You have a photo of me, you have to return the favor.”

He laughed. “Okay, fair's fair.”

She stood up and retrieved her camera, adjusting the settings as she sat back down and pointed the lense at him, snapping a photo carefully.

“Let me see?” he asked.

She handed him the camera and he studied the picture, finally smirking while letting out happy little hm! “You make it look easy.”

“Well, people say that, but it was a lot of hard work, believe me. It's 95 percent knowledge, honestly.”

“You don't give yourself enough credit.”

She bit her lip, glancing at the floor, her stomach flipping nervously. “Doesn't matter. I just need to pay the bills, you know? Get my daughter some new glasses. Oh, and food, of course. Food is good.” She laughed.

“Ach, don't mention food, I'm starving!”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Campbell and Bella open up about family issues.

“Yeah, I could eat,” she said, her face curling into something between a grin and a grimace.

“If we ever get out of here, I'll take you to my favorite place. Ehm, I mean, if you're not busy. I feel like I owe you one. Well, several. I really screwed up your day, didn'ae?” He frowned.

“No, it's okay,” she said with a half smile. “I mean, some things just happen. We can't control everything, no matter how hard we try.” She suddenly realized she had leaned forward and was touching his hand. She instinctively snatched her hand away, blushing as he smiled sheepishly, glancing down as he flexed and stretched his fingers in response to the touch. “I will take you up on your offer though,” she added somewhat hastily. “As it happens, my daughter's sleeping over at a mate's house. I arranged it because of this interview, I wanted to keep the rest of the day flexible, just in case.” She smiled.

“Well, that's fortuitous! Although, I'd have gladly brought you both.”

“Thanks. That's sweet.”

“It's the least I could do!” he said insistently. “Besides, I love kids.”

The intercom crackled to life. “Hello, this is maintenance.”

Campbell straightened hopefully. “Yes?”

“The electrician is almost finished. Several of the lifts have started working again, so it won't be long now. Everyone okay in there?”

“Yes, we're fine. Thanks!”

“Okay, just sit tight.”

The static from the intercom went quiet. Campbell grinned excitedly. “Fantastic! Listen, I'll take you down to Harry's office when we get out of here. Maybe I can talk him into doing your interview today. I mean you made special arrangements for your daughter and everything, and besides, it's his building that malfunctioned.”

Bella laughed, biting her lower lip. “I wouldn't want to put him out of sorts, though. He might not be as open to hiring me if he didn't really want to do the interview.”

“Don't you worry about a thing, Bella,” Campbell said with a confident nod. “I know how to handle people like Harry. Besides, he owes me a favor for the hams.”

She laughed. “The hams! You never told me, why on earth did you have a bunch of hams just waiting to be given away?”

“Oh, well,” he shrugged. “It's not a very interesting story. Just had some hams. I mean, I had plans for them, but they didn't work out, so it was good Harry needed them, actually, 'cause they'd have spoiled before I'd have gotten through them on my own. I mean I love a good ham, but my stomach capacity does have its limits.”

Bella smiled, but furrowed her brow. “Wait, you didn't... did you spend Christmas all alone?”

Campbell gave her a guilty look before chuckling embarrassedly, glancing down at his hands. “Aye, just sorta works out that way sometimes though, doesn't it? I mean, I got to have a proper Christmas with my daughter around New Year's, so it was okay.” He glanced back up at her, adding after a moment, “Charlie, my daughter, she got a bad case of flu and couldn't travel. I went to London and saw her in hospital, but... me and her mum, we don't... she doesn't...” he sighed, glancing up searchingly.

“I'm sorry,” Bella said.

He shrugged. “Anyway, I brought Charlie some presents and promised we'd have Christmas at my house once she was all better. And we did.” He smiled. “It was just one of those things. But anyway, I was supposed to take the hams to a party that I didn't end up attending because I was so exhausted from everything. It all worked out. Harry needed them, so it was certainly good for him!” He laughed softly.

There was a lull in the conversation, Bella chewing her lip hesitantly before finally speaking. “I know what that's like, not being able to be with your kid at Christmas.”

Campbell had been studying the floor, but glanced up, searching her face wordlessly.

She licked her lips nervously. “Yeah, I... when I was younger. I made a lot of mistakes in my life, and a lot of bad stuff happened because of it. But I lost custody of my daughter for a little while. I missed out on a lot.” She sighed. “Christmas was the worst. I mean I never had anyone my whole life, so having Isabel and then losing her...” She bit her lip in an attempt to hide its quivering. “Anyway, I don't know why I'm telling you this,” she chuckled pathetically. “Just... I'm sorry, I guess. That's hard.”

He nodded, glancing down. “Aye, yeah...” he sighed, then smiled sympathetically. “It's great you have her now though.”

“Yeah, definitely. I want to do the best I can for her. I'm all she's got, and I know what it's like not to have even one parent.”

“What about her dad?”

“He's gone.” She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head. “I mean... he's... he died.”

Campbell's face fell. “Oh god... Bella, I'm so sorry... shit, I didn't mean—”

“It's okay,” she smiled gently, touching his hand again—this time conscious of the gesture. “Not saying it doesn't change anything. He was... it was complicated. Isabel doesn't even remember him. She was just a baby last time he was around.”

Campbell looked down at their hands, turning his palm up under hers and feeling her fingers with his own. “I wish I could be there more for my wee 'un. Her mum... she took her to London to keep her away from me. I'd gone through a bad time when my da' died. I didn't take it so well, and she couldn't handle it. She...” he took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She doesn't trust me with Charlie, and the courts sided with her.”

“But that's not fair,” Bella said softly.

“Ach, I dunno, maybe they're right.” He sighed. “Either way, she took the opportunity to move to London. I'm better now though, and getting my rights back. I started getting unsupervised visits last fall.” He smiled hopefully. “It's good. It'll get better.”

Bella nodded pensively, then smiled wryly. “Look at us, pouring our hearts out like we've known each other all our lives.” She chuckled.

“Aye, bit different,” he laughed. “You're easy to talk to, I guess.”

“Yeah, you too.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella and Campbell talk about fate and life choices, and Bella reveals some truths about herself.

“Bella,” Campbell said after a brief, charged silence. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she said softly. She had turned somewhat sideways and was resting her head against the wall of the lift, studying his face in the harsh orange glow.

“Do you believe in fate?”

She let out a half-chuckle, glancing down at their hands. Their fingers had somehow become intertwined, but she hadn't noticed when. “I don't know... not really, I don't think.”

“Aye, think about it though,” he said, sitting up energetically. “Today. All the things that happened to you to make you late, so that you would come around that corner the exact same time as me.”

Bella rolled her eyes, smiling. “Coincidences happen.”

“But here's the really crazy thing,” he said, excitement growing in his voice. “I wouldn't have been there at that exact moment. Not ordinarily. I was running late, too.”

She laughed skeptically. “Running late isn't all that uncommon.”

“Bella, I was running late, but I still would have missed you, except that I'd accidentally left my phone on my desk. That was actually my second time coming out of the building.”

Bella couldn't help the grin spreading across her face, a giggle escaping her throat. “Okay, yeah, that is weird.”

“Think about it,” he said, gesturing animatedly with his free hand. “All the events in our lives that have led to that moment, every event had to line up perfectly—not just in our own lives, but in the lives around us. The last caller of my show today prompted a discussion between me and my producer, and I'd lost track of time. If not for the caller, I'd have been long gone by the time you got here. But then, I reached into my pocket to give Eddie a call, and my phone wasn't there. If I hadn't been running late in the first place, I wouldn't have had a reason to call, wouldn't have realized I'd forgotten my phone, and wouldn't have slammed straight into you because I wasn't paying attention. And you'd have had your interview.”

Bella chewed her lip. “If I'd gotten a cab to the wedding, I wouldn't have been late, and my client wouldn't have spent all that time verbally berating me, which means I'd have gotten out of there at a decent time, and I wouldn't have been splashed by that car, so I wouldn't have had to spend all that time cleaning out my equipment, which is what made me late for the bus.” She laughed. “That's crazy.”

“Aye, it is!” he said with a laugh. “Still... I mean, I'm sorry you missed your interview. But... I'm not sorry to be stuck here with you.”

Bella sighed, smiling somberly. “I'm just worried about what this could mean for us financially. I really needed this job. I feel like 'fate', as you call it, may have completely blown my chances.”

Campbell's forhead creased with guilt as he glanced away.

“Still though,” she added with a smile. “I'm not sorry either. I'm very glad to have met you, Campbell.”

He looked her way again, grinning broadly. “Good! Great, that is. Excellent!”

She laughed. “I do think we make our own fate though. I mean, ultimately. Some coincidences are too strange to be explained, but I believe in the power of good choices.” She laughed.

“Oh aye!” he agreed emphatically. “Absolutely! No one believes that more than me. I'd never have made it this far if I'd considered myself a victim of circumstance.”

“Yes, exactly.”

“I mean, I don't know about you, but I fought tooth and nail to get what I wanted. I had a lot of help, too, but ultimately it was down to the choices I made. And they weren't always good ones, believe me. I could be downright selfish at times, and a bloody fool, god...” He grimaced.

“Aren't we all though?” she said. “I made some phenominally bad choices. I'm still dealing with the consequences today. But we can't let our circumstances control us. They are what they are, we just have to bend them to our best advantage, I guess. I had a really rough start, but you have to keep fighting to make things better. I want my daughter to have better than what I had, and I fight for that, every single day.”

Campbell smiled warmly. “You are a fantastic mum.”

Bella felt herself blush. “Well, I mean... I don't know. I don't feel like I know what I'm doing most days, but I try really hard.”

“That's what makes you fantastic.”

She laughed self consciously. “I've received more encouragement from you in the last hour than I have in the last nine years put together.”

Campbell frowned. “What?”

Bella felt a lump forming in her throat. God, not again. Fuck! She attempted to clear it away. “I mean it when I say I'm on my own. I mean, I'm really on my own. I have no one. I run my own business, so I don't have coworkers. I'm too busy being a working mum to make friends. My parents have never been part of my life, my friends from Rylands—that's the home I grew up in, Rylands Children's Home—they've all moved on. I moved here for a fresh start after Rylands shut down. The lady who ran it, she died. She was the only thing that even remotely resembled a constant. Even when I bailed, she had always been there for me, and I took that for granted. I'm completely alone.” She felt tears spill over despite her best efforts and hastily wiped them away.

“Bella...” he said sadly. “Come here,” He opened his arms, and she was surprised to find herself accepting his invitation, leaning in and letting him give her a gentle hug. “No one should be that alone. Listen, I'll give you my number, you can call me anytime if you need a chat, or a friend, or just a laugh, or whatever. Okay?”

“Sorry,” she said into his shirt. “I'm really not normally like this.” She sat back, mortified, wiping her eyes and trying to pull herself together. “I guess sometimes you just hit a wall.” She laughed awkwardly.

“But you shouldn't have to.”

The lift whirred and kerchunked, and the lights flickered back to full brightness as it resumed its climb to the seventh floor.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bella has second thoughts.

When the doors to the lift opened, Campbell and Bella were still sitting on the floor, looking at each other with sober faces. A gentleman in a gray suit with a slick rim of hair fringing a prominent bald pate stuck his head through the door, looking down at them.

“Everything okay?” he asked hesitantly.

Bella looked away, trying to hide her tear stained face as Campbell stood and smiled warmly at the man. “Aye, we're fine. Stuck for a bit, but I guess they must have fixed it.” He shrugged.

The man smiled politely. “Yes, I heard. I was just on my way to the staircase, but now they've fixed the lift, I think I might chance it. Dodgy knee, you know.”

“Right, right,” Campbell said. “Well, we'll just get our things. Bella?” He turned and held a hand out to her.

She looked up into his eyes, reading such deep compassion and warmth that she nearly fell apart under the sheer intensity of it. She'd never known that kind of unconditional acceptance before, and to be the recipient of it now, today of all days... it didn't seem real.

She reached up and took his hand.

Campbell pulled her to her feet with a grin and a pop of the eyebrows, then scampered about the lift gathering up her things. “Come on, let's see if Harry's still 'round.”

She quickly followed him out of the lift, giving the man a cynical good-luck look as she went past. Campbell moved so fast, it was hard to keep up with him, and she maintained a little jog to match his long stride.

“If he's still here, I'll sweet talk him for you,” he said. “If not... well, I still owe you dinner.”

Bella smiled, then bit her lip. She felt like the day was catching up with her, exhaustion settling on her shoulders. It didn't feel like she'd interview well right now, and she found herself almost hoping Harry was gone. But then she reminded herself that a second chance at an interview wasn't a guarantee. A pang of anxiety struck her chest and she bit back tears of worry.

“Here we are,” Campbell announced, pushing confidently through a set of double glass doors into a waiting area with a receptionist. The woman behind the counter was shuffling papers and sticking pens and oddments into various containers. “Hi, Doris, is Harry still 'round?”

The woman grimaced sympathetically. “Ach, no, he's just gone!”

“Bollocks!” He glanced at Bella with deep disappointment before turning back to Doris. “Listen, did he say anything about his detained interviewee? Bella...” he glanced back at Bella searchingly.

“Tyler. Bella Tyler.”

“Oh, aye!” Doris replied, eyes lighting up with recognition. “Yes, he said you were stuck in a lift! He wasn't able to wait, he had an important meeting downtown, but he did want to reschedule you for tomorrow, if you're able?”

“Yes,” Bella replied confidently. “Absolutely.” Which wasn't true at all. She was booked solid with photo sessions, an eye appointment for Isabelle, plus her swim team practice after that. But she didn't care. She'd make this work somehow. “My... my daughter has swim practice in the afternoon, but I might be able to arrange a ride for her, if Mr. Krenshaw would be able to squeeze me in sometime after three?”

“Yes, I think we can work you in...”

After solidifying the details, Bella thanked the secretary and turned away from the desk. Campbell gave her a big smile. “All set?”

She took a deep breath and exhaled anxiously. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Great! Let's go eat.”

He turned to go, but Bella stood where she was, chewing her lip nervously. “Yeah, listen... Campbell...”

“Yeah?” he said, looking back, hand on the doorknob.

“I just...” she hesitated, glancing around the room evasively. “I'm... I've got to go,” she finally said.

Campbell's face fell. “Oh...”

“Yeah, I just... I should go home and try to get ready for my interview tomorrow.” She felt every part of her screaming, _go with him_ , but it was all being crushed under the weight of a the last man she'd let into her life. She'd given him every part of her, only to be destroyed by him over and over, until he was gone, and she had nothing left. The thought of it happening again almost made her panic. _You're out of your mind, Bella, you don't even know him. This can't end well. You have Isabelle to think of, just stay focused on your little girl, she's the only thing that matters._

Campbell massaged the back of his neck, trying not to look disappointed. “Right. Of course. Ehm... maybe another time?”

“Yeah, maybe,” she said stiffly. “Anyway... thanks for helping me get this sorted.”

He smiled. “Oh, it was the least I could do, Bella. Really.” He hesitated, then opened the door, stepping aside for her her.

She stood petrified for several moments, staring at him, his gaze boring into her, an inscrutable look on his face. Finally she looked away with a little nod, an awkward, enigmatic sound escaping her throat as she walked past him and through the door.

“Bella, wait.”

She stopped, closing her eyes and swallowing drily before turning around to face him again. He was holding out a business card.

“Here,” he said softly. “My number. I mean it, now. Call anytime you need a friend, a ride somewhere, help with something, whatever. I'm here.”

Bella felt the sting of tears and bit her tongue, desperate to fight them off. _I am not going to cry again._ “Campbell...”

“Please.” His mouth was a taut line, his jaw clenched tight, eyes wide and intense. Everything about him insisted.

The air around them seemed vibrate with untapped energy, so charged that Bella felt like the world might shatter at any moment and fall to pieces around her. Her heart started beating faster as her stomach roiled with anxiety. Finally she remembered to breathe, reached out with a shaky sigh, and took the card from him. Her fingers touched his as she did so, that tiny bit of contact feeling like a shock.

“Ta,” she whispered, then turned and walked away.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> About a week later...

“Good morning, Scotland, you're listening to the Campbell Bain Morning Show. I'm Campbell Bain, if you couldnae guess, and I have a question for you listeners. What is the luckiest unlucky day you've ever had? Give me a ring, two-two-four-six, I want to hear it from the horse's mouth. D'you know, I had a very unlucky day last week. Some of you listeners know, I do an afternoon show down at St. Jude's Hospital Radio on Wednesdays, but I missed my show last week, and you wouldnae believe why. I ran into a woman—literally. Ran into. I was late for my show, wasn't paying attention, and then bam. Knocked the poor woman right off her feet, and I broke her tablet—you know, the electronic tablets. I shattered it all over the pavement, I was absolutely beside myself. But it gets worse, because when I tried to help her, and sorta make up for the disaster I'd created, we ended up getting stuck in a lift! So rather than spend the afternoon on hospital radio, I spent the afternoon in a lift, waiting for maintenance to get us out. But despite all that, it was a lucky sort of unlucky day, because it turns out this woman is actually pretty incredible, and apparently rather forgiving, considering I broke her very expensive electronic device, and probably also caused her a great deal of discomfort from that fall. Thank you for not holding it against me, Bella, and you can send me a bill for the epsom salts. So there you are, my lucky unlucky day, I caused a disaster—which is not uncommon for me—and made a new friend because of it. And I'd like to celebrate my lucky unlucky day with a song. This is for you, Bella.”

The plunky piano notes of Thank You For Being A Friend by Andrew Gold filled the radio waves.

Campbell pushed back from the mic and slipped his headphones off, draping them around his neck and blowing out a sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair, then reached beneath his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He hadn't heard from Bella all week, and he was feeling rather discouraged about it. In his semi-public life, he had learned to be friends with everyone, but he was close with very few. She felt special; important; and for a moment, he'd really thought... His mind flashed on that instant when she took the card out of his hand and their fingers touched; the look on her face just then. She looked afraid, he thought. But he could have sworn he also read longing there. Maybe he was wrong.

He put his headphones back on as the song wrapped up, turning his mic back on and fading back the music. “That's Thank You For Being A Friend by Andrew Gold, bit of a classic there, but isn't everything here on the Campbell Bain Morning Show, Radio Scotland? I'm waiting to hear from you, listeners, tell me about your luckiest unlucky day, two-two-four-six. What was your horrible day that ended up being the luckiest day of your life? We've got our first caller here, name of... Bella?” He sat up straight in his chair.

“Yeah, it's me.”

“Bella? My Bella?”

The caller's laugh was distorted by the speakers. “Yeah, your Bella.”

“Bella!” he cried excitedly into the mic. “Good to hear from you! Did you hear the song I played?”

She laughed again. “Yeah, I did. That was sweet, thank you.”

Dead air.

Cambell, for the first time in his career, was speechless. The producer tapped on the window, then made animated gestures at him that he thought were probably intended to communicate something along the lines of what the hell are you doing? Say something!

“Ehm, er, hehe, sorry folks, bit of technical difficulty there for just a moment,” he fibbed, finding his voice again, and miraculously remembering he was still doing a radio show. “So Bella, you here to tell us about your lucky unlucky day?”

“Yeah, I am. But you already told that story. Or, at least, that part of the story. I just wanted to add that it was a lucky day for me, too, because you're the first friendly face I've seen since moving here, and I didn't know how much I needed that until I saw you.”

“Ach, Bella, I'm so glad you called. I've been thinking about you all week, wondering how your interview went.”

“Oh yeah!” she said with fake nonchallance. “That's the other thing that made it a lucky day. I got the job!”

“You did?!” Campbell squeaked excitedly. “Ach, Bella, that's brilliant! Congratulations! Yes, I actually ruined Bella's day because she was on her way to a job interview here at the BBC, and her portfolio and resume were all on that tablet that I smashed.”

“It all worked out brilliantly though, oh, and I need to see you, because I still have your tablet that you loaned me.”

Campbell almost told her to keep it, but he was desperate to see her. He wasn't about to risk throwing any excuse out the window. “Aye, my tablet! And I promised you a bite to eat, too! Tell you what, if you wouldn't mind waiting on the line a moment, I'll catch you up on the next song, aye?”

“Okay.” He could tell she was smiling.

“All right! Next caller, this is Jeremy from here in Glasgow, hello, Jeremy, how are you?”

“I'm good, Campbell. You?”

“Lovely, yes, lovely.”

“Sounds like you've got yourself a date.”

Campbell's giggle came out at far higher a pitch than he was expecting.


	11. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Campbell and Bella chat over chips.

“Listen, Campbell... I just wanted to say I'm sorry.”

They were sitting at a quiet outside table at Campbell's favorite chippie, as promised, and he was just about to put a chip in his mouth when she spoke. He furrowed his brow in confusion. “What for?” he asked before following through with the bite.

“For bailing last week. It was rude, and... I guess... not very nice.”

“Bella, you didn't owe me anything. Just because someone offers you a meal doesn't mean you have to take them up on it.”

“I know, it's just... I wanted to come with you, really. I was just...” she poked a chip in the sauce cup halfheartedly. “I'm not good at this stuff,” she finally said.

“What stuff?”

“Friends and things. Relationships.”

Campbell stretched his hand across the table and tentatively grazed her fingers with his own. “Even if that's true, it doesnae mean you're not allowed to have them.”

“I know that, I know, it's just...” she sighed, shoulders slumped in frustration. “The other day, when we were talkin, I shared a lot. I don't do that, not normally. And I got scared. I just... I don't give myself up like that. I'm always so guarded, and so, just...”

“I get it.”

She glanced at him.

“I do!” he insisted. “It's scary, putting yourself out there. It scares me every time.”

“But you're so open.”

“Aye, that's just who I am though. Can't change 'at. Trust me, it's not always a good thing, but everything just comes flying out of me whether I like it or not.” He grinned. “Still scary though. Gotten me into hot water I cannae tell you how many times.”

She chewed her lip thoughtfully. “You know, I think that's why I opened up to you.”

“Eh?”

“Because you were so open yourself. Made me feel like maybe you'd be good at listening, like maybe you'd understand.”

He grinned again. “I've been called a lot of things in my day, but I've never been called a good listener.”

“Really though.”

“How? I never shut up!”

“Yeah, but you still listened. You were a good friend to a complete stranger. I wish I was more like that.”

Campbell's smile faded into something softer. “Bella, it's okay to guard your heart. It's good. Just... make sure there's a door in that wall somewhere, aye?”

She smiled despite herself, turning her head away, but eyeing him sidelong. “I swore there wasn't one, but I think you may have found it.”


End file.
